Hazard of New Fortunes, a — Volume 2 eBook

March laughed outright. “Well, I’m
not a millionaire, anyway, Lindau, and I hope you
won’t make an example of me by refusing to give
toil. I dare say the millionaires deserve it,
but I’d rather they wouldn’t suffer in
my person.”

“No,” returned the old man, mildly relaxing
the fierce glare he had bent upon March. “No
man deserves to sufer at the hands of another.
I lose myself when I think of the injustice in the
world. But I must not forget that I am like the
worst of them.”

“You might go up Fifth Avenue and live among
the rich awhile, when you’re in danger of that,”
suggested March. “At any rate,” he
added, by an impulse which he knew he could not justify
to his wife, “I wish you’d come some day
and lunch with their emissary. I’ve been
telling Mrs. March about you, and I want her and the
children to see you. Come over with these things
and report.” He put his hand on the magazines
as he rose.

“I will come,” said Lindau, gently.

“Shall I give you your book?” asked March.

“No; I gidt oap bretty soon.”

“And—­and—­can you dress
yourself?”

“I vhistle, ’and one of those lidtle fellowss
comess. We haf to dake gare of one another in
a blace like this. Idt iss nodt like the worldt,”
said Lindau, gloomily.

March thought he ought to cheer him up. “Oh,
it isn’t such a bad world, Lindau! After
all, the average of millionaires is small in it.”
He added, “And I don’t believe there’s
an American living that could look at that arm of
yours and not wish to lend you a hand for the one you
gave us all.” March felt this to be a fine
turn, and his voice trembled slightly in saying it.

Lindau smiled grimly. “You think zo?
I wouldn’t moch like to drost ’em.
I’ve driedt idt too often.” He began
to speak German again fiercely: “Besides,
they owe me nothing. Do you think I knowingly
gave my hand to save this oligarchy of traders and
tricksters, this aristocracy of railroad wreckers
and stock gamblers and mine-slave drivers and mill-serf
owners? No; I gave it to the slave; the slave—­ha!
ha! ha!—­whom I helped to unshackle to the
common liberty of hunger and cold. And you think
I would be the beneficiary of such a state of things?”

“I’m sorry to hear you talk so, Lindau,”
said March; “very sorry.” He stopped
with a look of pain, and rose to go. Lindau suddenly
broke into a laugh and into English.